


The Autumn of His Discontent

by puss_nd_boots



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Prostate Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 18:34:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/995164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puss_nd_boots/pseuds/puss_nd_boots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aoi is holed up in a tiny hotel in the German sticks with no Twitter and no sightseeing opportunities before the Munich live. What’s a boy to do? Well, he DOES have a roommate with a very beautiful mouth . . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Autumn of His Discontent

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Aoi’s “don’t feel like I’m in Europe” tweets that appeared right before the guys went from one German venue to the other. Dedicated to all my fellow attendees at the never-to-be-forgotten Munich live. You guys rock, in more ways than one. (And, yes, this may have been a bit influenced by how damn pretty those red, red Ruki lips looked in three dimensions.)

Aoi was lying on the bed, PSP in hand, when Ruki came into the hotel room. Of course he was. That had been his posture for most of the European leg of the world tour, when he wasn’t on stage or preparing for the show.

“Planning to stay like that all day?” Ruki said, kicking the door shut behind him and putting his bags on the floor. The staff was going to have to ship another package back to Japan for him. Well, it was that or buy him another piece of luggage, and he knew they didn’t want to do that.

“And what else am I going to do?” Aoi said. “We’re so far out in the sticks this time that this place doesn’t even have Internet. I can’t go on Twitter.”

“Go on Twitter?” Ruki crossed his arms and leaned against the door. “So you can publicly complain about not sightseeing again? Word has it you upset the fangirls with your last tweet.” Okay, word also had it that was because of a bad English translation, but Ruki left that part out.

Aoi saved his game and dropped the device, lying back with his arm draped over his forehead. “I just don’t feel like I’m in Europe,” he said. “We haven’t seen a fucking thing except hotels in the middle of nowhere, planes and vans. I want to see old buildings. Castles. You know, Europe shit. And instead . . .”

“You could have come shopping with me and Kai and Kalou, you know,” Ruki said. Okay, so he wasn’t a hundred percent happy with their staying-in-the-suburbs arrangement, either. They were in Bavaria for the Munich gig, and he wanted to take advantage of the classy shopping he’d heard was on Maximillianstrasse, in the heart of the city. So that was impossible because they were in the middle of nowhere? Whatever, he’d make the most of it. Even small European towns had interesting shopping here and there.

“And that’s all you’ve done all throughout the tour,” Aoi sighed, turning his head toward the window. “Shop.”

“Maybe I like shopping,” Ruki said. “Maybe I know how to make the most out of every situation I’m in – unlike some people.”

Instead of answering his lover directly, Aoi turned even more toward the window. “They’re keeping me away from Oktoberfest,” he said. “On purpose.”

“Is that what this is about?” Ruki said. “Beer? There’s plenty of little beer halls out in this town, and they all have the same fucking kegs the city does. You can go out and drink all you want.”

“You don't get it,” Aoi said. “It’s not just about beer. It’s about, oh, I don’t know . . .” He shifted on the bed. “We might as well be back in Japan, for all the interesting things we’re seeing.”

“Aoi, can you just try to enjoy this?” Ruki sat down on the bed beside him. “Yes, you caught a fucking cold, and that sucks. Yes, you can’t go to Oktoberfest. From what I’ve heard from the staff” – who had been into Munich proper to scope out the venue – “you’re not missing much. It’s a bunch of drunken Australians stumbling around and puking in the streets. But goddamit, we’re still in a place that isn’t Japan, and there’s still things we could be seeing.”

“I’ve been enjoying doing the lives,” Aoi pointed out.

“Okay, you’ve been enjoying the lives,” Ruki said. “But when we’re offstage, can you please try to find something to look at other than the screen of your PSP?”

Aoi was silent for a long moment. Okay, he had that damn cold that came and went – at least at the moment, it was in “went” mode. And he was cranky as hell without Internet. No Internet and no Twitter made Aoi a jumpy, borderline-crazy boy

He just was consumed by the feeling that there should be, well, more to this. All over Bavaria, people were doing interesting things. They were drinking at Oktoberfest and exploring castles and riding to the top of Olympic Tower to see the city from a bird’s eye view. And instead of taking advantage of all this, GazettE were in this little, musty hotel – just like in Paris and Tolouse and Dortmund.

Yes, he loved being onstage in these new areas. He loved bringing their music to people who’d never heard it live before, loved their lusty screams instead of the polite-furi-dancing-in-unison they were used to back home. But between those highs, there wasn’t even lows. Just . . . flatness.

He turned his head back toward Ruki. The other man was sitting there, leaning against the headboard, looking rather petulant. As in, his lips were pouted in a most pretty way, and his arms were crossed over his chest. And dammit, if he wasn’t still wearing the sunglasses and hat that were his uniform when not onstage.

“Why do you do that?” he said aloud.

“Do what?” Ruki replied, not budging from his position.

“Why do you cover your beauty with a hat and dark glasses?” Aoi said. “You should let everyone see you.

“Don’t change the subject,” Ruki said, crossing his arms across his chest tighter.

“Why?” Aoi said. “The other subject was going nowhere, and I like this one . . .” He leaned over and gently pulled off Ruki’s shades, then his hat. “. . . a lot better.”

“You want to fuck to relieve boredom now?” Ruki said, backing away from Aoi a bit.

“No,” Aoi said. “I want to fuck because I have a gorgeous man next to me.” He moved closer to Ruki. “You said you wanted me to look at something other than my PSP? I’m looking at you.”

“And what do you expect to get out of that?” But Ruki didn’t back away again.

“This.” Aoi reached out with one finger and began tracing the shape of Ruki’s lips. “You have the most beautiful mouth in the world. I watch you on stage every night, those lips next to that microphone, and I get so fucking turned on. I see you lick your fingers, lick the mike, and it’s like having your tongue on my cock.”

Ruki shuddered a little. “I’m not about to do that onstage,” he said.

“No.” Aoi hopped off the bed. “But you can do it here, can’t you?” He crossed the room to the dresser, where one particular black leather case rested. Ruki’s makeup bag, of course. He unzipped the top and reached inside.

“Hey!” Ruki said. “What the fuck are you doing? Get out of there!”

But Aoi continued to rummage around in the case, until he found what he was looking for. He withdrew his hand holding a golden tube – Ruki’s now-famous red-red lipstick. “There,” he said, opening it and twisting the tube so the color came into view.

“What the . . .” But before Ruki could say anything else, the lipstick pressed against his mouth, and Aoi was sliding it, spreading it around, making the flesh the color of sin.

“There,” Aoi said. “That’s better. Your mouth is what it should be now – hot and tempting. Do you know what I’m going to do? I’m going to fuck that mouth. I’m going to push you on your knees and watch you suck me, watch you wrap your lips all around my cock. Because that’s what you want, Ruki. You love eating cock. Don’t deny it. It’s why the fangirls get all turned on watching you lick the mike, because they can tell what you really want to lick.”

Ruki suddenly reached up and grabbed Aoi’s wrist, stopping him. Aoi paused, waiting for a rebuttal.

Instead, Ruki said, “You’re smearing it all over my face. Let me do it properly.”

He got up and went to the mirror, reaching for his makeup remover, taking off what Aoi had done. He started to apply the stuff himself, and fuck, his hand was shaking, and that couldn’t be his heart pounding, could it? Except it so fucking was.

When he was done, he turned around – to see a naked Aoi standing there, smug smile on his face. “I told you I was going to have you suck me,” he said. “Right over there, in front of the mirror, so I can see everything.”

“You don’t ask for much,” Ruki said. But he was taking off his own clothes, oh, yes, reaching up to strip off his shirt, and then push down his pants. Because dammit, he couldn’t get naked fast enough.

“I only ask for what I know you want,” Aoi replied.

“So you’re a mind reader now?” Ruki pushed the last of the clothing off, stepping out of his pants and walking over to Aoi.

“Have I ever been wrong?” Before Ruki could answer, Aoi swept him into his arms, bringing their lips together hard, his tongue pushing into the other man’s mouth.

Ruki could do nothing but kiss back, and rub his tongue against Aoi’s, because, dammit, he was right. He knew. He knew everything Ruki wanted, damn him, and just how to give it to him.

When their lips parted, Aoi took his hand and led him across the room, to where a full-length mirror was built into the wall. “Over here,” he said. “I told you I wanted to watch.” He brushed his finger lightly over the other man’s lips. “Now, what are you going to do with these pretty things, hmm?”

Ruki responded by leaning over and kissing Aoi’s neck, making sure his red-painted lips left a mark. He moved down lower, kissing his collarbone, his shoulder . . .

His tongue came out and pressed against the other man’s skin, sliding downward as he made his way to a nipple, and when he reached the bud, he stroked it lightly, flicking his tongue over it, looking up to catch Aoi’s reaction.

The taller man had his eyes closed, his hands starting to wander through Ruki’s hair as the vocalist began to suck on the nipple, purring a little as he did so. “Good,” Aoi murmured. “You’re not just an act. You get up on the stage and make like you give better head than anyone on the planet, and then you actually do it. And you love being on that stage in front of all them. You love licking that mike because you know every woman out there wants that tongue on her. You get off on it . . . I know you do.”

Aoi opened his eyes and looked down, suddenly grabbing the back of Ruki’s hair and pulling quickly, harshly, making his head snap up. “But we both know where that mouth is going, don’t we?” Aoi said. “Now why don’t you move down and wrap those lips around my cock?”

Ruki slid down, all right – but he paused, kissing Aoi’s chest, turning those eyes upward again. He licked his way down the flat, taut belly, nipping at the skin a little, then pausing, rubbing his tongue back and forth, letting Aoi feel wetness and heat.

He reached the other man’s hardness at last, and kissed the tip, softly. “Open up,” Aoi moaned. “Let me fuck those soft, red lips.”

Ruki parted them, and he glanced over as he began to take Aoi’s erection in, watching himself doing it in the mirror. There was something hard sliding into something soft, Ruki’s full lips, the crimson of passion itself, enveloping Aoi, pulling him in.

“That’s right,” Aoi murmured. “Watch yourself. Watch as you eat up my cock like the hungry slut you are. You can never, ever, get enough. Open wider . . . I want you to take in as much as you can. I’m going to fuck that mouth as hard as I can.”

The guitarist’s words were just making Ruki hotter, making him suck harder, moving his head back and forth. Aoi was moving his hips, thrusting into his mouth, truly fucking it. God, the taste of him, the feel of it sliding back and forth over Ruki’s tongue . . .

He shifted his position a little, moving upward so he could slide down on it harder, deeper, faster. “Yes, baby,” Aoi moaned. “More. Always more. Get all the cock you can take, all that you want. I’ve got plenty.”

The red, red lips sucked at Aoi harder, enveloping him more and more with every downward thrust. Ruki found himself relaxing, his throat muscles becoming more slack. Before he knew it, he was becoming more open, more welcoming of his lover, taking more in, and more, and . . .

“Aaaah,” Aoi moaned. “Oh, baby! Fuck!” His hands tangled in Ruki’s hair, tugging. “Fuck, Ruki!”

It suddenly occurred to Ruki that he was deep-throating Aoi – and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. He’d never done that before, with Aoi or anyone else. He’d come close, but . . .

But now? Oh, it was luscious. Aoi filled him so much, there was solid cock sliding and sliding through red lips and tongue and into his throat. It really was like devouring him, swallowing him whole, and yet, gently making love to him at the same time. It was wild and hot and sexy and naughty.

And there was the added thrill of the idea that Aoi was fucking his throat, fucking his voice, making love to the very thing he used to ravish fangirls from afar.

Aoi, who had been so in control before, was now completely lost in emotion, in sensation, a slave to what Ruki was doing to him. He looked over, looked in the mirror, watching his cock vanish entirely into that plush redness, Ruki’s eyes closed, concentrating entirely on Aoi’s pleasure – hell, both their pleasure.

The guitarist was drowning in wetness and heat. He was being enveloped, surrounded, totally possessed by the other man . . . and fuck, he felt the pleasure mounting in his belly fast, he was letting out animal sounds, groans and whimpers and ragged panting . . .

“Gonna come,” Aoi moaned. “Gonna . . .”

And he thrust into Ruki’s throat one last time, with a loud groan, releasing himself, pouring his essence into the other man, finally sliding out of those lips, Ruki swallowing afterward.

“Oh, my God,” Aoi moaned. “Oh, my . . .” He fell down on his hands and knees, draping himself across the still-kneeling vocalist, as much in worship as in a post-coital cuddle. “Ruki, what the . . . I never . . .”

Ruki turned his head so he could kiss Aoi. “You wanted to fuck my mouth,” he said. “You did it, all right. It felt like you fucked my whole body.”

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to move,” Aoi said. “Fuck. I want to make you come, but I can’t move.” He groped around for his pants – at least he could move his arm – and pulled out his tube of lubricant.

Well, his cock was done for awhile, that was for sure. But there were other ways to make Ruki whimper and moan. And for this, his hands were all he needed.

Once he had a finger lubed, he brought it to Ruki’s entrance, rubbing it slowly. “Relax,” he murmured. “It’s your turn to feel good.”

“Aoi, what . . .” The finger was probing into Ruki gently, moving around, exploring, stroking different bundles of nerves – one making Ruki shiver a little, the other bringing a quick rush of heat that resulted in a long, low, delicious moan.

“That’s it,” Aoi murmured. “Just let me finger-fuck you. Make as much noise as you want . . . you’ve earned it.”

Another finger pushed in, and Ruki moaned louder, the sensations inside him increasing, growing stronger and more intense. He leaned back, thrusting against the fingers, fucking himself on them, thinking he was making love to the thing Aoi used to drive the fangirls insane – the hands that played his guitar as deftly as Aoi was playing his body right now.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Aoi murmured. “I can see how much you want it. It’s going to get even better, you know. You’re going to come so hard . . .”

The fingers curled upward, deftly, feeling around, seeking one particular spot . . . and then, they hit it, and Ruki nearly screamed.

A rush of pleasure like white heat blazed through his body. Every nerve ending seemed to be aflame, and he let out a sound that was somewhere between a growl and a shriek.

“Right there?” Aoi said. “That’s the spot?” He stroked it again, softly, gently, wanting to give Ruki stimulation, but not bring him all the way to climax yet. Ruki responded with a whimper.

“Good,” Aoi murmured, feeling for the tiny gland again, the little spot that could make Ruki feel such enormous pleasure. He blessed nature, silently, for including the prostate in the design of the male body. It was so much fun – both for the man giving the pleasure and the one receiving it.

He brushed his fingers over it in little, light circles, each movement bringing about fresh moans from Ruki, the vocalist starting to writhe, droplets of sweat running down his skin – but, damn, that red lipstick was still almost entirely intact, even after the mouth-fucking he’d taken. It just made him look all the hotter right now.

Ruki closed his eyes, moaning, totally lost in pleasure, in the waves of sensation washing through him every time Aoi’s fingers moved. They were going faster now, pressing harder, and Ruki clenched his hands, his hips starting to pump, his breathing harsh and ragged . . .

“Please,” he moaned. “Make me come, I need to come . . .”

“Just a little more,” Aoi murmured. “You’re so sexy, Bunny-chan. You’re going to be so beautiful when you scream for me.” The fingers moved faster. “Are you ready? Come on, Ruki, let go, just let go . . .”

And let go he did, throwing his head backward, letting out a loud, animal cry, ecstasy roaring through his veins until he thought he was going to burst into flame, and his come was pouring who knew well, Aoi wasn’t touching his cock, Aoi didn’t need to touch his cock . . .

He finally collapsed to the floor, panting and moaning and whimpering. The fingers slid out of his ass, and Aoi was leaning over to kiss his lips, softly.

“You’ve got to admit,” Aoi said, “that was better than shopping.”

Ruki couldn’t say anything in return. He wasn’t capable of speech. Right now, he was just a blob. A formless mass of pleasure and heat. He imagined if someone were to look at him right now, he’d be a huge ameba. That would be a bit hard to put on the stage in Munich.

Aoi kissed him again. “And, yeah, that was better than just playing with my PSP for the rest of the day.”

PSP? What was a PSP? Ruki’s brain wasn’t processing it. His mind was an ameba like the rest of him. Maybe he’d literally had a mind-blowing orgasm. That would explain a lot.

Eventually, he began to feel human again, and he managed to flip back over. “You’re talented as hell, you know that?” he murmured.

“Of course I am,” Aoi said. “I’m a superstar.” He kissed Ruki again and got up, yawning and stretching. “I think I need a shower . . . and then, I think I’m up for finding those little beer halls.” He looked down at Ruki. “Coming with?”

“I don’t drink beer,” Ruki murmured.

“You don’t have to,” Aoi said. “You can eat pretzels and bratwurst and drink Orangina. And then, afterward . . .” He held out a hand to pull Ruki to his feet. “Round two.”

Ruki didn’t know if he’d survive round two. But he was willing to try it, at least. He’d gotten Aoi out of his gloomy mood, and that was what mattered.

Sometimes, all you needed to make the most of a not-quite-ideal situation was a bit of creative fun.

* * *

Aoi had slipped back into a not-great mood when they arrived at Tonhalle for the live the next night, but it dissipated quickly when the show got going. The crowd was a super-enthusiastic one – they chanted “GAZETTO! GAZETTO! GAZETTO!” during every pause in the action, they jumped up and down, they waved their arms, they screamed and sang along. It was hard not to be carried away by their joy.

By the time the encores came around, Aoi was just as enthusiastic as they were. In fact, he decided to add his own punctuation to Ruki and Uruha’s standard fanservice during Hyena.

The two had their heads close, Ruki holding Uruha from behind, kissing his hair a little. And Aoi rushed up behind them, making a face, the crowd screaming even louder – and he made sure Ruki saw his stunt, too.

Just a little reminder to Bunny-chan whose bed he was going to be in tonight . . . even if it was in a hotel in the middle of nowhere.


End file.
